


Never Will I Ever

by yamihere



Series: Things We Do [4]
Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse, Cheating, Conversations, Gen, Infidelity, Jesse is a drunken mess, Late Night Conversations, Never Have I Ever, Past Relationship(s), Reader-Insert, Relationship Woes, Robin FeelsBadMan, Strangers talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-06-29 20:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15737145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yamihere/pseuds/yamihere
Summary: Prompt: You both talk about your experiences of being cheated on.





	Never Will I Ever

**Author's Note:**

> I thought of this idea one night and my fingers ran and did their thing. This isn't edited or proofread at all. If you see errors, feel free to point them out! This one is one of those long conversation pieces.

You’re in Jesse’s apartment lounge. Beer cans and water bottles are strewn over the floor and there’s a freshly opened soda case beside you. You actively try not to let your hand rest on the wet spot on the armrest of the red couch and you try to focus on the game. Jesse’s the one downing most of the beer but he’s leading the game. Your eyes drift from the woman across the couch who is leaning on the arm rest and watching the rest of a group with a lazy smile when Jesse speaks. His words blurred together and he repeats the beginning three times.

“Never... have I ever… been cheated on.”

Your shoulders squeeze up and your breath catches in your throat. Suddenly, your throat is dry and you resist the urge to clear your throat and swallow. Instead, you take your can and take three gulps. Your eyes dodges everyone’s in the room but lands on the person you should have avoided the most: Robin. Robin tenses and glances at you briefly before looking away. Now, it’s awkward. Jesse doesn’t sense the tension and instead tilts his head in curiosity, not in your direction but the woman who’s sharing the couch with you.

“Someone… did you dirty? I didn’t even… know you dated,” a burp interrupts his sentence, “anyone.”

“It happens. People can be shitty,” she answers shortly but doesn’t move.

Robin’s face contorts guiltily at her words and he squirms under your gaze. He chugs down the rest of his drink and looks like he’s going to walk out any time. Meanwhile, the woman’s eyes aren’t concentrated on anyone. She’s just staring into space.

Before anyone can speak up, she says “Never have I ever masturbated in public?”

“What the fuck? You mean like just whipping your dick out at Walmart and having at it?” Jesse interjects.

She laughs. “You can discrete about it. Like there are people that do it in trains or in a public bathroom.”

She wiggles her eyebrows before adding, “Some people are a little bolder. They take a hike and once they reach a peak, they have a victory fap.”

Jesse looks disgusted but Robin and I take a drink. Then his face morphs into shock.

“Seriously, guys?”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “Can you really judge?”

He opens his mouth but you smirk and his mouth snaps shut. He stuck up his middle finger. You know what he likes to watch and it’s not exactly vanilla. Instead, Jesse ignores you and probes Robin.

“What’s your excuse? You still do it?”

Robin shrugs. “It happens. I guess I like that I can get away with it.”

They banter about the pros and cons of fapping in public but your mind wanders to memories of your relationship with Robin. It stings at first the pain dulls until it is nonexistent. A part of you is satisfied to see him hurt about their actions but the other part of you hopes he’s changes his ways.

Then, eventually your thoughts float to her. The entire night this girl has dodged specific questions and lays low even though it is only four of you. You’re not sure how she does it because Jesse is notorious for his snooping. She’s looking at her phone now. Occasionally taking videos of the unfolding conversation with a devious flare in her eyes. Ah, maybe that’s how she does it. Blackmail material. Five minutes later, she yawns and stretches on the couch.

“Guys, it’s getting late so I’m going to take my leave.”

She sweeps up the beer cans in a plastic bag.

Jesse drunkenly throws her a thumbs-up and replies, “Okay, cool.”

She chuckles and turns to Robin. “I guess you’re staying here to take care of him tonight? Last time was my turn.”

Robin shakes his head and looks at her pleadingly. She doesn’t waver and teasingly swings the plastic bag on his arm. “Wouldn’t want him to pee on the neighbor’s door.”

Robin sighs and pinches between his eyebrows. “Yeah, wouldn’t want that again.”

She turns to you. “It was nice meeting you.”

You smile. “You too. I’m actually heading out now too. I’ve got work early tomorrow.”

Jesse temporarily sobers up and groans. “Work… fuck. There’s a huge meeting tomorrow.”

You grimace and halfway through the door you say stop to say, “Yikes, tough luck, bud.”

Then the door clicks shut. When you turn the harsh bright light of the hallway hurts your eyes, causing you to shield them temporarily until your eyes adjusted. You notice that she’s nowhere to be seen. _She can’t have disappeared that fast_ , you wonder, confused. _Oh well._ You whistle as you ascend downstairs and out onto the streets. The street vibrates as a car passes by and drunken yelling and laughter fills in the night. The cold nips at your exposed skin and the hairs on your arms stand. You quietly curse yourself for not bringing a jacket.

A familiar silhouette bathing under the warm light of a nearby streetlight draws your attention and you call out her name. She jolts upwards and frantically scans the area before her scrunched up shoulders relax. She fiddles with her phone until you catch up to her.

“What’s up?” she says, looking into your eyes.

Your throat suddenly becomes dry and you struggle to clear it.

“Nothing much. Y’know how you’re getting home? It’s pretty late.”

“I’m taking the bus. I would Uber but my phone died.”

You’re about to ask her why she isn’t waiting at the bus stop but then you peer over her shoulder and see hulking shadows and a flickering streetlight. _Great way to make people feel safe_ , you think and roll your eyes. _What are they using the city’s budget on these days?_

“I can give you a ride home if you want.” You offer.

She bites her lip and rubs her arm. “Are you sure? You could just call me an Uber, I’m sure you need to get home.”

You wave your hand dismissively. “It’s not a problem. It’ll save you money and it’ll let me rest assured that you got home safely.”

She shuffles her feet and looks back at the bus stop.

“Okay. Thank you so much by the way. You really didn’t have to.”

“I want to,” you say before walking both of you to your car.

You fumble to get the keys out of your jean pockets. The cars headlights blink and she allows herself into the passenger seat before you have a chance to open it for her. You slip into the driver’s seat.

“Hey, can you put in your address?” you ask and toss the phone to her. The screen paints her cheeks in white and blue light and she slowly types her address.

She hands it back and gives you a sheepish look.

“Sorry, my hands are too big for the screen.”

You take the phone and bite down to suppress a bubble of laughter.

The car thrums to life and you back out of the parking space. Silence envelops you and she temporarily breaks it to ask how much you’ve had to drink. Satisfied with your answer, she sinks back into silence. Occasionally, you glance at her and she’s usually looking out the window. You sneak another glance at the red light and you catch her dark brown eyes inspecting yours. Panicked at sudden confrontation, you move your eyes to the road.

“So we’re in the same boat,” she announces, breaking the silence.

You tip one eyebrow confused. “Hm?”

“Cheated on.”

Oh. This is not a conversation you thought you’d be having on. You swallow hard and prepare for questions to be fired.

She instantly calms your worried thoughts.

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to interrogate you. I just wanted to say I’ve been there.”

“Oh. Yeah, it sucks.”

“It really does. I might as well talk about it. That might be a kink of mine.”

You sputter. She laughs.

“Not getting cheated on. The ‘spilling life stories to practical strangers’.”

“I don’t think I could do it,” you chime in.

“Most people won’t. It’s hard to be raw with people you’ve just met but I’ve always been like this. It’s easier to tell strangers my story than close friends.”

This piques your curiosity. What could strangers, like him, know that her close friends. Then you feel a strange sense of pity. _Do they really know her?_

“Anyways, I didn’t start dating until I was 20.”

Your jaw drops in shock.

“Wha—why?”

“Strict parents. That and I didn’t see a need for that in my life earlier on. In high school, everyone wants to fuck. Shoulda known it’d be the same for college but alas, I was still an idiot.”

You lick your lips and nod. You remember high school clearly and remember college like it was yesterday. You had a few dedicated partners but horniness was your best friend.

“Anyways, I had seen him in my gen Ed class. He was a business major. We had one of those stupid group projects. You know the story. A couple of dates and presto, we’re suddenly dating. I wasn’t clingy—that might have worked against me in retrospect because I like my space so I could go days without seeing or calling him.”

“I get it, but did he? I’d like to talk with my S.O. every day if I don’t see them.”

After a long sigh, she answers, “I guess not. I just figured that guys would like that kind of thing so I never questioned it.”

“Communication’s really important.”

“You’re telling me.”

Silence distills the air and you almost regret your interjections but she continues.

“So we’re a year into this thing. I thought it was fine. We’d hang out once or twice a week when I wasn’t busy with lab work or exams. Then my roommate started hanging with us. I had no problem with it. Trust is important after all.”

“Yikes.” You already knew where this was going.

“Exactly. He stopped showing interest in meeting outside and we’d always hang out when my roommate was there. Then they’d hang out when I wasn’t there.”

“So, I’m guessing you walked in on them.”

“I kind of wish it was like that so I could be angry. But no, my roommate was a decent person.”

You blink, shocked. “Huh.”

“I know, I sound crazy but she came to me one night. It was after exams. And she said she had a thing with Wren.”

You grimace when you imagined after blowing threw exams and being told the person you're living with has stolen your boyfriend. _How considerate of her_?

 _The two birds that got away_ , you muse thinking of Robin.

“She said she didn’t want it to escalate further and had only made out with him once. Since he didn’t want to step forward, she decided she had to because I didn’t deserve to be lied to.”

“Wow…”

“Yeah,” her voice light, “looking back, that is the best she could have done. It would have been terrible for both of us if I found out any other way. So I broke up things with Wren. It only got messy when he blamed me for not being there enough for him and I acted like I didn’t really want him.”

You could see where he is coming from but that doesn’t mean he has to hide the relationship with the roommate. The best and most likely scenario is that she breaks up with him and he’s free to seek someone else. They’re both free and even if one is hurt, it was better for both of them. Worst comes to worse, she walks in on them and flips out on him.

“I just wish he’d broken it off earlier. I asked him why he hid it instead of coming right out with it. He said he wasn’t sure about his feelings… All I’m left wondering is how long would it take for him to be ‘sure about his feelings’.”

She rolls her eyes. “That was a year of my life I’m not getting back.

You shake your head. You’d never understand cheaters.

She agrees with you and you snap back realizing you’d vocalize your thoughts.

“Well, it was for the best. You’re free to find someone else… have you found someone else?” You tread carefully.

“No. I gave up after that. I just don’t have the energy and dedication needed to make a serious relationship work. My habits aren’t exactly relationship worthy…”

“I’m sure there are plenty of people who are compatible with chillin’ and being able to breathe in a separate space. Communication is key.”

“Another thing I’m not good at.”

“Don’t say—“

“You don’t know me.”

The words die in your throat. Not wanting the conversation to end on a sour note, you quickly apologize.

“Sorry. Being single isn’t a crime.”

Instead of scoffing in offense, she claps. The unexpected reaction makes you a little uneasy. “It’s heavenly. I don’t get why people always complain about it. I can travel freely and do what I want. Of course, being with someone isn’t a crime either.”

During the last statement, her voice loses its levity. The uneasiness in your stomach disappears.

“You don’t seem too convinced by the last part.”

“I’ve been around a lot of relationships that don’t work out,” she simply answers.

“Hey, sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. The beauty of it all is that most of the time you can start over.”

A faint "mmhm" is what you get in response and soft hum of the car takes over with the spontaneous interruptions of the GPS. You take a another left. A few minutes pass before you talk.

“Y’know, me and Robin used to be a thing.”

You hear something tumble and out of the corner of your eye, you see her fumble for something under the seat.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. My phone just slipped,” she pipes. You hold back laughter at her reaction.

“I get it. Robin wasn’t known for being exactly faithful. I met him on a double blind date. It was disastrous. He was hitting on me and my friend at the same time. My friend was charmed and didn’t even realize what was happening. Obviously, I couldn’t let him have at her.”

She doesn't say anything but you feel her full attention so you speak up again.

Your fingers slowly thrum on the steering wheel as the car waits at yet another red light. “So, I threatened him. My mistake because he started asking me out on dates. Consistently he'd ask and I'd reject him.”

“Thought you were playing hard to get?” An unexpected bitterness accompanies her tone.

“I thought so too. He told me he was serious. He had never met someone like me. How cliché. Did he really think I was going to fall for that crap?”

“Well?”

“My friend put in a good word about him, saying he wasn’t fucking anyone since that date. So, I gave into one of his annoying shenanigans. We went paintballing for our first date and the rest was history.”

“So…”

“It was going well. Six months in, we both got tested and we fucked like crazy. Sex never got boring and never did he. The problems started when he traveled.”

“Addicted to sex?”

Green light. The car rolls forward.

“I guess you could say that. Or it was his lifestyle catching up to him. Before me, he used to drink… a lot. I think that’s what led to most of his escapades.”

“That’s awful.”

“Yeah but it seemed like I had changed him. No, sometimes people don’t change but they so badly want to believe they have,” you grit out clenching the steering wheel. A part of your is surprised by your burst of anger. You thought that fizzle out during the three years. You thought wrong.

“Oh. That must have been hard to deal with.”

“For both of us. He was trying. I want to believe that. He was doing so well. But the bottle was always crying his name and his company was good at playing into his temptations.”

“They made it easy for him to slip back,” she states.

You shake your head vehemently.

“I won’t make excuses for him. He told me about the first couple of times.”

“At least he was honest.” She optimistically offers and points the building you’re supposed to park in front of.

“Only because he knew he was chicken shit if I found out on my own. He was scared shitless of losing me and look where it got him.”

You shut off the engine just as she whistles out an exhale. You stare at the parked cars ahead of you and continue.

“We worked on it: coping mechanisms, a therapist, an anonymous group, you name it. The foundation of my trust hadn’t been broken yet. I wanted to believe it could work too. In the end, it couldn’t work. I just became numb to the apologies and confessions. Five years down the drain.”

She gasps. “Damn, I’m so sorry. You guys didn’t deserve that.”

A ghost of wry grin haunts your face. “He must have really liked me, because in the end he let me go when I wanted to.”

You turn to look at her and find her eyes are glistening with unshed tears. Your heart jumps and you panic.

“Uh, hey. Are you okay?”

She swallows so hard you hear it and closes her eyes. “It’s just so sad. I should be asking you. Are you okay?”

You stare at her wide-eyed. “Yeah. It’s been three years since then. We’re both in better places… please don’t cry.”

“I won’t,” she whispers and covers her eyes. When she uncovers them, the unshed tears are gone.“Wow, my story was so silly compared to yours.”

You gently touch her shoulder. “That doesn’t invalidate what you went through.”

Her voice doesn’t break in the beginning but it cracks at the end of her question. “How… how can you still believe in relationships after all that?”

“I still date.”

It’s her turn for her jaw to drop. You’d never imagine telling personal stories to a stranger but something about her makes it spill out.

“Listen, this sounds like typical bullshit but there are so many possibilities. I can't be afraid to love someone else because we couldn’t love each other the way we should have in my previous relationship. That would be doing myself a disservice.”

She nods slowly, taking your words in.

 “And it’d be doing others a disservice. I’m hot on the market,” you add with a wink.

She snickered. “I’d bet.”

You look at the time and notice it’s 1AM. You guys have been talking for almost an hour.

“I’d better go,” she chimes.

She steps out of the car but before shutting the door, she leans in to put a hand on your shoulder.

“Thanks for driving me home and listening to my bullshit.”

You’re taken aback. “No, _thank you_. It’s different. It’s nice hearing someone else’s experiences.

Hope we’ll get to hang out again.”

She grins. Nothing else betrays her face. “Who knows.”

Then she shuts the car door and disappears into the building entrance. Once you’re sure she’s inside, you pull your car into drive and go home.

Tonight has been eventful.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, thanks for making it to the end of the story! I know there isn't a lot about how you feel here, it's more of what you've experienced as the protagonist. I'm still getting into the swing of things so I'm satisfied with this for now. Some background for this story is that infidelity is rabid in my community. It's just expected that if you date a man from my community, they will impregnate you, cheat on you, and leave you. (Of course, it is not exclusively men but it is predominantly.) As I got older, I realized people around my age from my community, in single and two-parent households, look negatively upon relationships (or just dating within the community and I don't blame them). I've only seen a few long-lasting marriages. I guess this is my subconscious way of filtering my thoughts? 
> 
> Anyways, sleep-deprived yamihere out.


End file.
